by Anna Katmore
After a few more steps, he caught up with me but still avoided my glare. I couldn’t resist casting a sideways glance at him every now and then.
The ripped hems of his blue jeans scuffed along the path as he moved. I traced up his long legs, concentrating a few moments on his lean hips, taking in the enticing sight. His blue t-shirt hugged his flat stomach and firm chest, the short sleeves flexed with his biceps. My fingers itched to trace a line from his neck down his back to the slight curve just above the waistband of his pants. Heat rushed to my cheeks at that thought.
While we walked with only about five feet of footpath between us, my annoyance with him flared off quickly. I tried to hold on to that anger—it felt more comfortable to be pissed with someone than discover an unwanted addiction to his smile.
Maybe I was mistaken. What if all the hocus-pocus around him was simply the way my subconscious was dealing with a very scary fact—that I was falling for this guy? And fast.
The comfortable feeling when I’d opened my eyes to him this morning surfaced in my mind. As if he was no ordinary man but my personal island of peace. I craved this man like nothing else. He said he wasn’t Charlene’s lover, but could he be trusted?
Every few steps, Julian wiped his dusty hand on his backside, just to dip his fingers anew into the bucket and retrieve another handful of powder. The right side of his bottom was soon covered in white—like mine had been that morning after he’d groped me.
To remember the feel of his hand on my butt brought a pack of hot coals to the center of my stomach. Dear God, I mustn’t even think about it. I took off the hat to fan myself, then placed it back on, and tried to concentrate on the work.
“Is Quinn really your lover?”
Air whizzed out of my lungs. I shot a stunned glance at Julian’s face. The question shimmered in his eyes.
Yeah right, you so want to know that, don’t you? I didn’t reply.
“I didn’t think he was,” Julian said, the satisfied tone unmistakable.
Even though we barely spoke during the following few hours, I enjoyed just being near him. Once, as I bent over and rolled up the hems of my pants to expose my pale calves to the warming sun, I caught Julian staring me. I tilted my head and met his gaze. He gave me a tight-lipped grin. Then he returned to work.
There were not many things I was going to miss when I took off tonight, but Julian’s smile was definitely one of them.
We left the vineyard together with the others at about five in the afternoon. I was starved and welcomed the smell of food when we entered the kitchen. Marie had decked the table with cold cuts, vegetables, boiled eggs and bread.
To my great delight I learned that the dragon was fast asleep in the front room and Marie didn’t dare wake her just yet. With only the four of us surrounding the table, I experienced what it must feel like to belong to a normal family.
My aunt spoke about a new boutique in town that she would love to visit on the weekend, while Julian playfully pierced a slice of cucumber on my plate before I could. He shoved it into his grinning mouth.
I’d just sucked in a breath to tell him off, when Albert disrupted my feigned anger. “Now, Jona, how do you feel after your first day out in the vineyard?”
To be fair, I had trouble keeping my eyes open, but I’d also hardly felt better in my life. “My back aches a bit,” I admitted, stretching, and gave Marie a sheepish look. “Throwing that funny flour to the ground was the better idea after all.”
“You mean the fertilizer?” my uncle corrected.
I nodded. “I only hope it won’t turn into dough with the next rain.”
Now he and his wife laughed while Julian shook his head.
“It sure won’t,” Albert said. “It is nothing like flour at all.”
“What exactly is it?” I asked.
My uncle’s eyes cut to Julian. “Boy, did you not tell her? You spent the entire day out there together.”
And what a fine day it was.
Julian shrugged, swallowing a bite of bread. “She never asked.”
While his nonchalant attitude made me and my aunt chuckle, Albert tsked at him. Then his glance returned to me. “What you and Julian did today was supply the plants with minerals and vitamins to grow healthy and strong. You could have dissolved the powder in water and poured it over the roots. But to carry a can is a lot more exhausting than to carry a bucket with powder. To the plants it makes no difference.”
Excitement rode Albert’s voice when he spoke about his vines. It made him happy to tell me all about the different types of grapes and how the geographical location affected the taste of the wine later.
That evening I found I could show the man a good time just by listening to him, even long after we’d finished our dinner.
“Tomorrow, when we are out again, I will show you how to operate the tester and you can do scans of the ground if you like.” My uncle beamed at me.
I felt a painful sting in my chest, knowing there would be no tomorrow for me here. I’d already be gone and on my way back to England when my family woke the next morning.
A NEST OF BIRDS
THE FIRST LIGHT of a new day warmed my face. My nose itched and I rubbed my finger on the tip while forcing my eyes to open. Throbbing pain in my forehead reminded me of Julian’s advice to wear a hat on a scorching day in the open field. A warm drop of drool rolled down my chin. I wiped it off with the back of my hand and raised my head from the hard surface. What the hell…
Where was I?
As I straightened my stiff back in the chair, a long yawn escaped me. My muscles rebelled but my joints clicked into place with a good stretch. When my arms sank back to the desk, I spotted my work from last night. A half-finished farewell letter addressed to Marie, crumpled from my tired body resting on it all night.
“Bugger!” Yesterday’s labor in the field had worn me out. The last thing I remembered was having to rest my head for one minute. I must have fallen asleep while writing the note.
My stuffed backpack waited in the corner next to the door. Damn, all I wanted was to get away from this place. But here I was, stuck in my aunt’s house, trapped for another day with the dragon.
“No, no, no!” I banged my fist on the desk, sending the pen flying in a high arc to the floor.
My glance skated over the clock on my nightstand. I should have set the alarm. Falling asleep had ruined my chance at freedom for another day.
Tonight I’d be more careful, making no mistakes. I needed to get out of this place and fast.
Downstairs, I greeted everyone with a long face on my way to the door. Not even Marie’s beaming smile could melt my ice-cold glare, and I shrugged off Julian’s questioning tilt of the eyebrow with a sneer.
And then I bounced into her.
Charlene came in through the front door right as I wanted to walk outside. A big blue book slipped from her hands and dropped to the tiles. It flapped open somewhere in the middle. My hands fisted, and a grumble rolled from my chest, filling the hallway.
The dragon beamed. “Good morning, Jona.”
Oh, get the hell out of my way or I’ll put a stop to that happy grin with my bare hands.
I wanted to step over the book on the floor, which on second glance happened to be a photo album. The glimpse of one particular picture made me freeze.
The photo was of me—in front of this very house.
Sneaking up on me to take pictures? Damn her to hell.
Marie huddled next to us to gather the book for my mother. She rose with joyous surprise on her face. “Where did you find this?”
Charlene cut a glance to her sister. “It was one of the few things I took with me when I ran away. I must have thumbed through this book a thousand nights.” Her sickly soft voice made me want to puke.
“Look, chérie.” My aunt turned with the open album in her hands. “That is me and your mother when we still were young. Oh Charlene, you must have been Jona’s age here.”
My stomach droppe
d to the floor as I looked at the photo she pointed out. The faded color proved it was taken many years ago, but I would have sworn that was me standing outside the door smiling for the camera. The same dark red hair wafted around the girl’s face, the same eyes stared at me. The red dress and white pumps looked stupid on me though.
“I cannot believe how much Jona resembles you in your younger days.” Marie’s words made me sick with repulsion.
“Come on, you two. Let’s go to the front room and look at these pictures together.”
Or, you could grab a gun instead and shoot me in the head.
I gave both women a wry look. “I don’t think so.” Bad enough that I looked exactly like the dragon in her younger days, but there was definitely no chance I would sit and reminisce with them about the “good old days” and notice every bloody detail of our resemblance. No way in hell!
Careful not to brush against my mother, I stepped past her and escaped into the morning breeze. Deep breaths calmed my anger only a little as I leaned against the wall.
Birds flew across the flawless sky. Another hot day in the dragon’s den. I really needed to get away from here. The farther I could get from my mother, the better. Did she honestly think she could just enter my life and expect us to be best friends? As if the past twelve years never happened?
Marie came out a little while after me, and together we walked to the field. I appreciated the silence between us.
Out in the vinery, my pacifying song crept to my mind, the one I didn’t know the title of. I began humming, and the notes of this haunting melody stayed with me all morning.
As promised, Albert instructed me on how to use the cell phone-sized device to make scans of the dirt. For the simple purpose of distracting me from thinking about the unhappy meeting with my mother that morning, I wanted to get my hands on the gadget with the round keypad and a bright screen.
But my failed prison escape chewed me up inside. Pebbles bounced off my boot as I kicked the dirt. No matter what, I had to stay awake long enough tonight to pull off Houdini’s grand disappearing act.
Since Julian was assigned to “cheer me up”—and I’d heard Marie use those particular words before she had sent him off with me—his short trips back and forth to the house and the field didn’t escape my attention. If this was his way to perk me up, I could very well do without his help. What was he doing anyway? Serving the dragon another lamb for her to roast?
And yet, I found myself staring after him, every time he excused himself for a few minutes. I kept my face emotionless, but inside I screamed at him not to leave. Confusion and doubt were my permanent friends.
In the evening, I ate my gumbo extra fast. A headache provided a good excuse from the chitchat.
Aunt Marie bid me goodnight at the bottom of the stairs. “Too much work is not becoming you.” She reached for my hand to squeeze it tight. “Tomorrow, you will not be going out to the vineyard.”
Oh, how right you are.
Inwardly, I sneered. But at the same time, the loss of my new family slung a noose of barbwire around my heart.
“You need to recover, chérie,” she went on. “And it is the weekend, so we will find something nice to do, just you and me.” The corners of her mouth lifted. “How does this sound?”
It sounds great! Bile in my throat stopped me from slamming the lie right into her face. I pulled my hand away.
But it’s not a lie, and you know that.
Damn that better part of me and its inclination to talk back.
I locked my confusion out and nodded once then turned on the spot to run up the stairs. Safely over the threshold of my room, I slammed the door shut and leaned against the cool wood. A sigh puffed through my half-parted lips. My gaze wandered heavenward. “God, let me get out of this house before I go insane and change my mind.”
I rushed to the bathroom to shower off the sweat and dirt from today’s work. Once clean and dressed in my ragged jeans and an old black tee, I sat at my desk to rewrite Marie’s letter. The paper folded twice, I tucked the message into my notebook. Later, on my way out, I would leave the note on the kitchen table.
Light dimmed outside. So this was it, I was prepared to go. From my nightstand, I grabbed the alarm clock and set it for midnight. Strange, how such a simple task took me over three minutes. My throat tightened while I fumbled with the clock. I would also close the windows tonight, so the noise of the alarm wouldn’t wake Julian.
Julian.
My focus blurred. I drew back to a part of my mind where I had saved his luscious scent. If only there was a chance to smell the warm wild wind on him again. Just once more, before I had to go.
My skin tickled at the memory of his touch. I stroked my fingers over my wrist, the spot where he’d wrapped his hand around me when he’d freed me from the cuffs outside Abe’s office. An image of Julian’s lopsided grin flickered before my eyes. The one that grew on me all too quickly.
I wished there was a way to say goodbye to him. A letter would never do.
Swiveling on the chair, I took in the beauty of my room one final time in the fading daylight. What a palace. And I was turning my back.
A dull thud, like someone had dropped a cutlet, snapped me out of my mulling. I walked to the open balcony door. The moment I pulled the curtains aside, a sparrow took off from the railing and gave me a start. It fluttered excitedly in circles then shot up to the roof and out of my view.
Crazy birds. The curtain slid from my hand, but upset chirruping drew my gaze to the boarded floor. My eyes grew wide, and my heart turned to pudding.
One step out on the balcony sat a young bird. Cocking its small head this way and that, it never let me out of focus. Its head was the only part moving, even when I squatted on the threshold.
“What are you doing on my balcony? Can’t you fly?” Very slowly, I moved my hand forward, but the bird hopped back, its wings still folded at its sides.
“Don’t touch it,” my most favorite voice in the world said, and a spray of bliss washed over me.
Julian approached on a gentle step. “It must have fallen out of its nest. There is one right above your room. Underneath the eaves.”
As he lowered to his knees, the bird retreated to the corner of the banister where it got trapped.
“Can you bring me a towel from your bathroom?” he asked.
“I don’t think the bird needs to be rubbed dry. It needs a lift.”
Julian’s exhausted sigh came with an amused half-smile. “Off you go.”
After a suspicious glance at him, I loped off to fetch the terrycloth he wanted. “So, what are you going to do with it?”
“I’m trying not to put my scent on the bird when I set it back in its nest. The mother bird won’t accept her chick if she smells a human on it.” He scooted forward and lowered his hands with the towel in them so the bird could clearly see his movements.
“Be careful,” I whispered.
Julian moved so nimbly and gracefully, he would have been able to catch a wild horse out on the plains. All the while, I held my breath until he’d cupped the bird with the towel.
He turned and showed me the scared little fella in his hands. “Its heart is drumming like a machinegun.”
I sighed, struggling against the impulse to stroke the tiny bird’s fragile head. “What now?” My voice was barely louder than a whisper.
“Time for the little runaway to go home.” Julian surprised me when he tilted his head up and bent his knees slightly. His stance suggested he was going to push from the ground and fly like superman.
Someone was definitely crazy out here, and it certainly wasn’t me. I cocked a brow and bit my tongue, restraining from saying something stupid.
He straightened and avoided my stare, clearing his throat. “Well,” he stammered with a sheepish expression. “Could you bring the stool from over there so I can climb to the nest?” He nodded his chin to his side of the balcony, where an old wooden stool sat in the corner.
Pan
ic gripped me. I stepped from the threshold, back into my room, and clutched a hand to my chest. Shaking my head, I felt the color drain from my face.
“Oh, right.” His gaze locked with mine, and he exhaled through his nose while his lips curled. He looked so cute when he searched for a solution. “Could you hold Tweety for a moment?”
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I’ve never held a bird before.” And yet I strangely wanted to.
“Don’t worry. You can do it.” He stepped into my room and handed over the small bundle.
Very carefully, I moved to take the bird from him. The tiny animal started rebelling and chirruped like I was after its life, and I shrank back. “Oh dear, I guess it wants back to you.”
Julian laughed. “The bird wants back to its home. So we better hurry.” At my reluctance to hold it, Julian shoved it toward me. “It’s okay. Just don’t squeeze.”
His hands cupped mine, and he waited until the muscles in my clamped fingers relaxed. To be honest, it was hard to relax at all with him holding me so tenderly.
“Okay, you got it. And always remember, the bird fears you more.” He winked.
I was afraid I’d crush the animal with the new rush of excitement swamping me.
While Julian slipped out to the balcony to retrieve the stool, joy filled my chest that he trusted me with the care of something as fragile as this bird. The sparrow’s dark button eyes glinted. I felt the racing heartbeat Julian had mentioned. The powerful sense of a protector surged through me.
“Let’s see if this works.” Julian had placed the stool in front of my room and stepped on top. When he held out his hand, I placed the bird-package into his palm. My own hands trembled as I pulled them away from his.
He lifted the bundle over his head, growled low, and rolled his eyes. “Stools, my arse.” In the next instant he stuck the chick in front of my face. “Take it again for a moment.”
“What’s the problem?” I said as I reached for the bird.
“The chair is too small, I can’t reach the nest. And since I can’t f—” He cut off and gave me a pointed look.
